Finding Yourself
by firebrat5289
Summary: Paramedics do everything at 60 mph: Their jobs and their lives. They spend their lives taking care of other people, but who takes care of them? Can one paramedic save another or will their job takes its toll?
1. Ch 1: Paramedic partner switchup

Title: Finding yourself

Summary: Paramedics do everything at 60 mph: their jobs and their life. They spend their lives taking care of others, but who takes care of them? Can one paramedic save another or will their job take it's toll on them?

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Saved. I do own Christine 'Chris' Morgan. But if she's real, my apologies, I don't own her. Please don't sue; I'm a poor high school girl.

A/N: I've only seen one episode of the show so far, so I'm basically making this up as I go along.

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When I first moved to Portland, I thought it was because I wanted to be a paramedic. Sure, I had once had the chance to be a paramedic in Los Angeles, but much like every other twenty three year old, being away from your parents is a good thing. Being a paramedic may not have been my first choice of jobs, but I had never studied anything but medicine. In college, I majored in pre-med, then ended up going to Med school for two years, but dropped out, realizing that I was as miserable as both of my parents were. Growing up, moving away was my dream. I wanted to get as far away from the Morgan family as quickly as possible. Maybe Oregon isn't that far away, but when I first moved here, I thought it was. Life here was a little rocky at first, having gotten into poker and alcohol, but a girl that I had grown up with, saved my life: Angela De La Cruz was my age, but had skipped college and med school, and became a paramedic: She had been doing her job for over five years. As the year has gone by, and I've seen my fair share of different things, I've wondered why I didn't' just follow Angie's path and become a paramedic right away. Everyday, we see people on their worst days and we help them. We save lives everyday, and it's an incredible feeling to know that people are walking around because you saved them. Now, I've been in town for a year, and couldn't be any happier. For some reason, that's the first thing I thought about when I woke up this morning, besides the annoying honking on the street below. Looking over at the clock, I decide it's finally time to get ready, so I get out of bed, shower, and drive into work.

"So, you finally decided to get to work."

"Oh, come on, Lieu. You know you love me."

The short balding man chuckles for a moment, having known me for over twenty years. He had grown up with my mother, and they have remained friends ever since. I sit down at the ping-pong table with the other paramedics that are there: Angela, John 'Sack' Hallon, and the new guy, Harper Sims.

"Alright, everybody, there..."

Before Lieu can even get started, another paramedic comes running into room.

"Glad you could join us, Wyatt."

"So am I."

"As I was saying before Mr. Cole so kindly interrupted, the department thinks you're getting too attached to one another, and has ordered a partner mix-up."

A chorus of groans is heard between the paramedics. Most of us have been with the same partner since we joined up, so switching us around is something that nobody wants to hear.

"Sack, you are with Sims. Cruz, you finally get your own bus."

"Damn right."

"Morgan, sorry, but you get Cole."

Wyatt looks over at me, grinning like a Cheshire cat. I can't help but smile back as he begins his crazy antics.

"Hi partner."

"Hi."

"You ready to go?"

"Always am."

"Finally! A woman paramedic who is actually excited about getting to work everyday. I'm thinking I'm going to like this."

I give Angie the look of 'save me' as Wyatt and I walk out to the ambulance. He gets into the drivers seat, as I get into the passengers side. I'm hoping that today goes off without a hitch, but with a crazy partner like the one I ended up with, that is going to be a little more difficult than planned. I had never been partnered with Wyatt, but from the stories I've heard from different paramedics, he's a great paramedic, but a crazy ass guy away from work. Sack, who had been his former partner, told me that as long as I had a sense of humor that I would get along with Wyatt just fine. Unfortunately, my hectic work schedule has never allowed me much time to get to know anybody. Anytime I was given the chance I would work double shifts, for the extra money. I might see him passing somewhere, but I never stopped to talk. Maybe this is a sign from above, or maybe it's just a sign that I need to take a day off and do nothing but sleep.

"So, what brings you to Portland?"

"Getting away from my parents is probably the biggest part. They're both private doctors with their own practices down in L.A., and as far as they're concerned, being a doctor is the only thing that matters."

"My parents are doctors, too."

"Really? Where?"

"They're these private doctors back east. I moved here when I was twenty one; haven't looked back since."

"That's the only way to live, not looking back, but looking forward."

"Amen."

Maybe this day wouldn't be so bad after all.


	2. Ch 2: The Shock of your life

Title: Finding yourself

Summary: Paramedics do everything at 60 mph: their jobs and their life. They spend their lives taking care of others, but who takes care of them? Can one paramedic save another or will their job take its toll on them?

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Saved. I do own Christine 'Chris' Morgan. But if she's real, my apologies, I don't own her. Please don't sue; I'm a poor high school girl.

A/N: I've only seen one episode of the show so far, so I'm basically making this up as I go along.

A/N: This is probably a little different than any part of the show. I don't care. When an idea pops into my head, I type it out on paper; sometimes the ideas give way to stories, and sometimes they don't. This is just an idea. It's not meant to be an episode of the show or anything. My apologies to those who I offend, but I don't care.

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"Ooo, foxy lady!"

Wyatt and I both say at the same time. The day had actually been pretty nice: the calls weren't bad ones, just some minor stuff, Wyatt and I hadn't fought and he hadn't made any rude comments. From what I could tell, Sack had told me the truth: Wyatt Cole was actually a pretty good guy. I just didn't want to get too attached to this partner incase the department decided to switch us all up again.

"You have a pretty good taste in music, Chris."

"Why, thank you, Wyatt. Yours isn't too bad, either. Jimi Hendrix had some good stuff, so did Alice Cooper."

"It does surprise me though. You don't look like a rock music kind of girl, Miss Morgan."

"Like I said earlier, when I was younger, I would do anything possible just to piss off my parents. Rock music was just one of many things that I fell in love with back then."

Before we could go anymore in depth, a call came over the radios for a huge structural fire, involving casualties, and possibly fatalities.

"Hey, isn't that the address of that labored breathing call was that we answered earlier? The one with the drug addicts, and,"

"And the abusive boyfriend. Yeah, it is."

Wyatt and I had answered a call earlier this morning for an unconscious man. We get there, wake the guy back up, and give him some oxygen, but while we were waiting for the drugs we gave him to take effect, Wyatt noticed that there were three kids sitting on the sofa, two of them were under five, but one was about seven years old. I asked the boy, Quentin, why he wasn't in school, and when I went to put a hand on his shoulder, he flinched. Wyatt lifted up the shirt, revealing multiple bruises. In the end, we found out that he was being abused by his Aunt's boyfriend, the one who was unconscious. Wyatt called the cops to see what could be done, but our job was over. Legally, we had done all that we could do, but each of us made a mental side note to check up on the kid by the end of shift. Wyatt hit the lights and sirens and we practically flew back down to the apartment. By the time we arrived, the place was in flames and the firefighters were trying their hardest to put it out. Seeing that all of the victims were already being taken care of by other paramedics, we went off in search of Marissa (Quentin's aunt), her abusive boyfriend, and the rest of the kids. Marissa was bawling and about to run inside.

"Have either of you seen Quentin?"

"No, why? Where is he?"

"I don't know, I think he's still inside."

That fact alone made Wyatt and I both panic. Before either of us could stop her, Marissa went running into the building, screaming out Quentin's name. Wyatt tried to stop her, and ran after her, but as he reached the entrance to the building, the fire chief stopped him and made him come back over with the rest of us. I felt a small tug on my jacket, so I turned around and saw Quentin standing there.

"Hey buddy, are you alright?"

"Where's Marissa?"

"She went back inside to look for you. We all thought you went back in."

Before anybody could say anything else, we saw one of the firefighters carrying out a woman in blue jeans and a black tank top: Marissa. Wyatt and I both grabbed our bags and ran over to her, immediately starting treatment. Angela and Harper, who had been called here, came over and helped Wyatt and I load her into the bus. Harper drove, and the other three of us stayed in back, trying to keep Marissa stable. Halfway there, Harper made an extremely sharp turn, making half of us fall to the other side of the vehicle.

"Harper, don't kill us before we save her!"

Angela really hated being paired up with a newbie more than anything else. Right after the sharp turn, we lost a pulse on Marissa, and decided to shock her. Each time, it would bring her back for a minute, and then it would weaken and die again.

"You want us to administer the drugs, Christine?"

"No, don't. She could flat line at any minute."

"If you shock her again, she could die."

This was a very hard decision to make. If I gave Marissa the drugs, she most likely would flat line and nobody would be able to bring her back. If we shocked her, there was a small chance that she would die, but the risks were much less for the latter choice.

"She won't die, not on my bus."

I took the step and shocked her again, but before anybody could celebrate, her heart stopped. For a moment, I thought I had killed her. Being a paramedic and having one of your patients die, is a scary, scary thought.

"Look, Chris, you tried,"

As Wyatt began to comfort me, Marissa's pulse got stronger and stronger, until it was like she was alive and carrying on a conversation with us. The three paramedics sitting in back started laughing, mainly at how lucky I got.

"Alright Sims, now it's Daytona!"

Angie said, letting Harper know that it was alright to begin speeding again. Like I said, saving lives is a great feeling.


	3. Ch 3: Being a gentleman

Title: Finding yourself

Summary: Paramedics do everything at 60 mph: their jobs and their life. They spend their lives taking care of others, but who takes care of them? Can one paramedic save another or will their job take its toll on them?

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Saved. I do own Christine 'Chris' Morgan. But if she's real, my apologies, I don't own her. Please don't sue; I'm a poor high school girl.

A/N: I've only seen one episode of the show so far, so I'm basically making this up as I go along.

A/N: This is probably a little different than any part of the show. I don't care. When an idea pops into my head, I type it out on paper; sometimes the ideas give way to stories, and sometimes they don't. This is just an idea. It's not meant to be an episode of the show or anything. My apologies to those who I offend, but I don't care.

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"That was a daring move, Miss Morgan. I'll be taking this up with your supervisor."

I had just royally gotten yelled at by the head of the E.R. for shocking Marissa three times, risking her life. Giving her the medicine would've been worse, and that's exactly what I told the doctor, but when does a doctor listen to a paramedic? Looking off to my side, I see Quentin looking up at Wyatt and myself.

"Quentin, buddy, we need to talk."

I pick him up, and set him on top of the desk so we can, while Angela, Sack, and Wyatt all watch. The whole time I'm talking to the boy, Wyatt is standing against the desk, smiling at the scene in front of him.

"Oh no."

"Oh no, what, Angela?"

"I think Wyatt's found his next girlfriend, Harper

"Who would that be?"

She gestures over to me, and Harper just nods his head, agreeing with Angela completely.

"Look guy, Chris is my partner, not my lover. Alright? I don't think we're ever going to have anything together. I don't like to dip my pen in company ink, per say."

"Whatever you say, man."  
Wyatt shakes his head, and goes back to watching me with Quentin.

"Next time you want to talk to Mr. Cole or myself, just call this phone number. Just tell whoever answers that you want to talk to Paramedic Morgan or Paramedic Cole. They'll let us know that you want to talk to us."

"Anytime I want to talk?"

"Anytime you want to talk."

"Thanks, Christine."

I give Quentin a hug, and then take him off the desk, releasing him into DCFS' custody. The four of us paramedics walk outside, still talking about my miraculous save of Marissa.

"I still can't believe that worked. You had skills out there, Ms. Morgan."

"Well, Ms. De La Cruz, it helps to have a pre-med degree and two years of med school under my belt."

"That would help, Angela."

"Oh shut up, Wyatt."

Wyatt and I give Angela and Harper a ride back to their ambulance, then the four of us make our way back to the firehouse. I changed into my normal clothes, and walk back out of the locker room.

"See you later, Angie."

"Bye, Christine."

"John, Harper. I'll see you tomorrow, Wyatt."

"Hey, wait! Where are you head, Chris?"

"My house on Abbott street, why?"

"I live like two blocks down from that. I'll walk home with you."

"Alright."

As we walk out, Angela and Harper sit at the table, giggling about what was said earlier in the emergency room. Wyatt and I walk along in the refreshing spring air, until we reach my place.

"Wow, so this is where you live?"

"Yep. What can I say? I used to bring in a lot of money from my poker matches. I fell in love with this place instantly."

"So, uh, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yep, see you tomorrow, Wyatt."

I gave him a kiss on the cheek, saying thanks for walking home with me. Who knew? Wyatt Cole wasn't such a bad guy after all.


	4. Ch 4: Drunk on the street

Title: Finding yourself

Summary: Paramedics do everything at 60 mph: their jobs and their life. They spend their lives taking care of others, but who takes care of them? Can one paramedic save another or will their job take its toll on them?

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Saved. I do own Christine 'Chris' Morgan. But if she's real, my apologies, I don't own her. Please don't sue; I'm a poor high school girl.

A/N: I've only seen one episode of the show so far, so I'm basically making this up as I go along.

A/N: This is probably a little different than any part of the show. I don't care. When an idea pops into my head, I type it out on paper; sometimes the ideas give way to stories, and sometimes they don't. This is just an idea. It's not meant to be an episode of the show or anything. My apologies to those who I offend, but I don't care.

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The next few weeks went by without a hitch. Wyatt and I had gotten closer and closer, and were now best friends. Luckily, Angela and Harper had kept their mouths shut and hadn't told anybody but Sack how good Wyatt and I were getting along. Today, though, Wyatt didn't show up for work, so I was partnered with Sack. About forty five minutes before the end of shift, we get a call about someone bleeding from the head.

"I wonder who it is."

"It's probably just a drunk, Sack. The only people bleeding from the head at a quarter after 11:00 pm are drunks."

We get there and the who the person is surprises us.

"Hey, isn't that Wyatt?"

"Yeah, I think it is."

"Do you want to handle it or should I?"

"Hey, Christine, you're his partner. You go take care of him."

I grab my bag, hop out of the bus, and walk over to where Wyatt is sitting next to a bleeding. His injuries are mostly on his face, but far more extensive that just a scalp laceration.

"What the hell happened, Wyatt?"

"Old gambling debts finally got the best of me."

I clean him up the best I can.

"Can we drop you off somewhere? Your apartment, a friends apartment?"

"I don't have any more friends."

"Come on, don't be like that. You have Sack, Angela, Harper, Lieu, me. We're all here for you, Wyatt."

He looks up at me for a moment, studying my facial expressions.

"Are you sure we can't drop you somewhere?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. It's alright."

I gather up my stuff and get back to the bus, where Sack is looking a little confused.

"Wyatt had some scratches, bruises on his face. There was the one main laceration on his forehead, but that was the worst of what he had, and it was only that bad, because head wounds bleed so much."

"Does he need us to leave him somewhere?"

"I kept asking him, but Wyatt kept saying no."

"Do you think he's going to be okay out in the middle of nowhere, by himself?"

"I sure hope so, John. I really, really do."

We get back to the house, and go through the process of cleaning the bus up, and getting it ready for next shift. I've already changed out of my work uniform, so I'm out of the front door as soon as possible. I'm barely away from the firehouse when I see Wyatt walking towards me.

"Oh, hey Wyatt."

"Hey, Chris."

"Can I help you with something?"

"Yeah, actually, I just wanted to do this."

Before I can ask Wyatt what 'this' is, my back is pressed up against the wall of the firehouse, with him standing in front of me, our lips locked together in a kiss.

"What was that for, Wyatt?"

"Well, I've been thinking about that all day. It was sort of a thank you for helping me out and not telling Lieu that you found me drunk and beat up."

"That was a good thank you."

"A good thank you, huh? How about I say thank you for putting up with me for so long?"

"I could live with that."

We kissed again, and before either of us knew it, we were in Wyatt's bed, our clothes lying in piles all around us.


	5. Ch 5: Finding yourself

Title: Finding yourself

Summary: Paramedics do everything at 60 mph: their jobs and their life. They spend their lives taking care of others, but who takes care of them? Can one paramedic save another or will their job take its toll on them?

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Saved. I do own Christine 'Chris' Morgan. But if she's real, my apologies, I don't own her. Please don't sue; I'm a poor high school girl.

A/N: I've only seen one episode of the show so far, so I'm basically making this up as I go along.

A/N: This is probably a little different than any part of the show. I don't care. When an idea pops into my head, I type it out on paper; sometimes the ideas give way to stories, and sometimes they don't. This is just an idea. It's not meant to be an episode of the show or anything. My apologies to those who I offend, but I don't care.

**A/N: This is the last chapter, and I cannot say that I am proud of it in anyway. Honestly, I wrote this just so I could finish the story and wrap it up. I know it sucks, so please, refrain from telling me how much YOU the readers think it does.**

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The next morning Wyatt and I thought it best to go to work separately, so we wouldn't raise suspicions. Neither of us was ashamed of last night in any way, but it's really against protocol to sleep with a co-worker.

"So, Wyatt, are you going to the poker game with me and Sack?"

"I can't go, Angie. I quit gambling."

"you? You quit gambling? Who is she?"

"Why is it that every time I'm happy I have to be with a woman?"

"Once again, who is she, Cole?"

"She's incredible, but I'm not going to tell you who it is."

I walk into the room as he finishes that statement.

"Hi Angie, Sack, Wyatt."

"Hello, Chris."

Wyatt says, smiling at me.

"Oh. My. God. I know who it is."

"Yeah? Who is it?"

"She just walked into the room."

I had heard this comment, and was trying to ignore it. Poor Wyatt's cheeks were turning as red as a fire engine.

"What? Ang, I am not with Chris."

"Hunny, you can try to downplay it as much as you want, but I see the way you look at her, the way you act when you're around her."

"How many people know?"

"Just me and Sack, and we're not planning on telling anyone anytime soon."

I sit down next to Wyatt, holding his hand under the table where no one can see anything. I haven't felt this way about anybody in a long, long time, so it was fun to actually be with somebody.

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Flashforward

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It's been three years since I moved to Portland, and life is drastically different. I married Wyatt about a year and half after we started dating, and I couldn't love him anymore. He's long since gotten over his gambling addiction, and spends his free time at home with his family: Me and his baby daughter, Emma. All of the same paramedics that I've worked with since the beginning still work at the same firehouse, getting along as good as always. So in the end, are we as human beings really looking for the perfect spouse, perfect house, perfect car, or perfect job? Or are we all really just looking for ourselves? I can honestly say that I have ended that life long search, and have found myself, in the arms of my friends and family.


End file.
